


willful suspension of disbelief

by insunshine



Category: Actor RPF, Music RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-05-05
Updated: 2009-05-05
Packaged: 2017-11-14 04:23:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/511270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/insunshine/pseuds/insunshine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They're friends first, which is how it happens.</p>
            </blockquote>





	willful suspension of disbelief

They're friends first, which is how it happens. Zac's over, they're having beers, even though Shia's trying to cut down, and it's late enough that those ads are on TV - the ones advertising phone sex with beautiful young co-eds.

Zac's the one that says, "You ever do that?" and Shia's buzzed enough that he has to blink and consider the question more than once to actually get what Zac's trying to say.

"My voice isn't that sexy, dawg," he says, and Zac laughs, slapping his hand on his thigh like Shia's funny. "I used to do standup," he says, mostly to his beer bottle. He's not sure if Zac even hears him.

"It's why you're so hilarious," Zac says, and then they're kissing. 

To really understand the situation, Shia has to explain the layout of his den; that Zac was sitting behind him on the couch, and in order to maneuver himself down and in Shia's space, he really had to _move_. Zac ends up in Shia's lap, and Shia ends up sprawled back against the baby blue rug that came with the house.

Zac's heavier than he looks, which makes sense, because he looks like he weighs all of thirteen pounds, so when Shia groans against his mouth, he's really not sure if it's because it feels good or because Zac is kind of crushing his pelvis. 

"Sorry," Zac mutters against his mouth, reaching down his hand to pet at Shia's cheek. "Sorry, sorry, man. Sorry." He must not be sorry enough, though, because he leans down and kisses Shia again, fitting their mouths together tight.

They don't have sex right there, because Shia's never been assfucked, and he doesn't typically keep lube stocked in his place.

Zac blows him though, shimmying down so that he's face-level with Shia's crotch, working at his belt with fingers that should be clumsy, considering how much alcohol he's consumed, but aren't. He says, "Can I?" Like Shia's ever said no to a blowjob in his life.

"Sure, Zef," he manages, breathing out, and then breathing again - or trying to. He's pretty sure there's nothing hotter than feeling someone's mouth on his dick, unless it's - well. Unless it's being used in other capacities. 

Either way, Zac's mouth feels great, and he's not choking or anything, even though there are a few accidental thrusts that push too far. He's competent, which is good, but it makes Shia think - and subsequently blurt, "Shit, have you - have you done this?"

Zac doesn't pull off right away, and even when he does, he doesn't let go of Shia's dick entirely, moving his hand up and down the length almost absentmindedly. He shrugs. "Um, sort of?" he says, and then he laughs, alcohol heavy and amused. "Not really." After a couple seconds, he says, "Want me to finish you off, dude?" 

That's pretty much how the rest of it goes, and when Shia comes, he's almost entirely silent. Zac doesn't swallow, but he does keep Shia's come in his mouth as he uses Shia's thigh as leverage to push up and head to the bathroom. The only light in the room comes from the TV, and Shia can see how Zac's lips strain, the stains at the corners of his mouth.

He doesn't know if he should kiss Zac or not, but it doesn't seem to matter when he comes back out, already jingling his car keys.

"Thanks for dinner," Zac says. He's standing up, which gives him an advantage, but they'd be pretty on par if Shia stood too. "We should hang out again, next time we're both home."

Shia's pretty sure he says, "Sure." He's not a hundred percent, though. 

His dick is still hanging out of his pants.

;

He doesn't meet Brendon the next day, exactly, it's more like a week later, maybe two, but it's close enough in proximity that the two events are linked, sort of.

The second time they hang out, Brendon sucks Shia's dick, too. He wonders if there's some kind of homing beacon down there and if he should be glad or ...well. Glad. He still doesn't know anyone that would turn down a blowjob.

"This is cool, right?" Brendon's on his knees, palms on either of Shia's legs. He'd dropped something, his phone, maybe, although Shia's not super sure.

"Uh," Shia manages. This is the second time he's been in this situation, and his moves are still pretty lacking. He clears his throat a couple times, and then a couple more, and says, "Who says no to head, man?" Brendon laughs again, high and a little breathy.

He's kind of wasted and Shia knows from experience, everything is hilarious when you've got a couple shots in you.

Brendon doesn't say anything else, just hums in his throat, hands sure on Shia's belt. His mouth is hot and the suction is just this side of perfect. He uses his hand, squeezing the base where his lips don't seem to meet.

He's really good at it.

"You're really good at this," Shia says - okay, moans, really. He's maybe a little louder than he wants to be, but they're at a festival and the music is a little loud. A lot loud. Brendon pulls off after a second, not dropping his hand either. Shia's not really looking to make comparisons, but the last two people who gave him head were both male. It's kind of a difficult thing to forget.

Brendon says something, but Shia can't exactly understand him. He reaches one of his arms down until his palm hits Brendon's shoulder, palming over it. He drops his head down, taking Shia into his mouth again. The white noise is pretty consistent after that.

When he comes, Brendon does swallow, but he doesn't manage to get everything, and his lips are spit-shiny and slick. Shia says, "Up, come up here," and Brendon gets off his knees, climbing into Shia's lap as he does so.

Brendon's eyes are a little hazy, wide and dark, and it's strange that Shia can taste himself in his mouth as they kiss. It's weird that he chases the taste; the sensation.

"I um," Brendon says, and he laughs. His arms have found their way around Shia's neck. Shia's pants are still unbuckled, so it's a little strange having Brendon on his lap, but it's not bad. "I didn't think I'd actually have the balls to do that," he mumbles. 

They're not kissing as intensely as they had been, and Brendon's dropped his head down a little, mouthing at the base of Shia's neck, at his collarbones. He's leaving tiny little bites that probably won't be visible later, but Shia likes how they feel.

"I'm glad you did," Shia says. He really is, and not just because he got his dick sucked. He tips Brendon's head up with his thumb. He doesn't feel particularly shaky, but his hands are unsteady in this moment. He leans forward to catch Brendon's mouth, groaning a little when Brendon parts his lips.

They sit like that for a while, Brendon grinding his hips down and Shia arching up. There's not anything particularly intense about the interaction at all; when Brendon comes, his entire face tenses, brows and forehead scrunching. He's chewing on his lip so hard it looks like he's going to break the skin, and Shia presses close again.

Brendon moans, soft and a little broken, and then he says, "My pants are so fucking gross right now." He doesn't sound like he's amused, but Shia's tipsy enough that it's funny. He snorts, a little, chuckling, and Brendon starts to laugh too, ducking his head against Shia's shoulder and pressing his forehead there.

"At least you don't have chafe marks on your balls, bro," he mutters, and Brendon starts to giggle even harder.

All in all, it's probably one of the best nights of Shia's life.

;

Brendon's a touring musician, and Shia actually has this job. You might have heard of him. He acts in pictures. That's how his dad introduces him anyway, how he tells his friends that Shia - _his_ Shia is in the business. 

"That's my son!" He'll say. "That boy right there on the poster, that's my Shia. He acts in pictures." It makes Shia laugh for the most part, but it makes him blush, too, sometimes.

Brendon's band starts their tour in LA, which is handy, because Shia can manage to make it out to the venue, even though he has an early call in the morning.

"Are you sure we're allowed to be back here?" Jeff asks. Shia rolls his eyes, because they've got VIP passes around their necks and no one's said anything to them yet. A few people have looked at Shia, squinting their eyes when they caught sight of him, but there hasn't been anything out of the ordinary. "You couldn't've just brought your fella to dinner?" Shia definitely blushes this time, ignoring the statement and continuing down the hallway to where Brendon's directions said the dressing room was.

There's a big guy standing guard outside of it, arms crossed across his chest. Shia opens his mouth to speak, but the guy smiles before he even says a word. "LaBeouf, right?" He doesn't wait for Shia to answer when he continues with, "You were sick in _Trasnformers_ , man."

Shia shrugs, ducking his head again as he scratches his nails against the back of his neck. "Thanks," he holds his hand out and they shake. The big guy laughs, and Shia's pretty positive they've met before, although he can't exactly remember the details. "Um, is Brendon in there? He sent us these passes, and I - "

"Just go on in, man. He's expecting you," the guy says, and Shia remembers his name just as they're walking through the door.

"Thanks, Dan," he says, and the guy grins at him, slapping a palm against his back. Shia prides himself on the fact that he doesn't stumble.

;

He hasn't heard from Zac, save for a few random texts. If he's being honest, Shia's just been really preoccupied with Brendon.

;

"I'll be there in fourteen _hours_ ," Brendon says, and even though he mostly sounds exhausted, Shia can hear the excitement in his voice too. It's been a long three months, but Shia's flown out to see him a couple times.

"I never thought I was one of those dudes," he says, stretching his arms high above his head. "You know. Clinging to his boyfriend, but man, I - "

Brendon snorts, saying, "Boyfriend, LaBeouf?" This is one of those moments where Shia's kind of grateful they aren't in the same room. He can feel his cheeks starting to heat up. He can't stop his mouth from running sometimes.

"Yeah," Shia says. He sits up straight, clearing his throat. "I mean, if you want."

He can hear the smile in Brendon's voice when he says, "Yeah, I mean. Sure. I want." Shia smiles so hard his cheeks hurt.

;

Shia's always been a fan of sex, of being that close to another person; but there's something about being with Brendon that amps up that feeling even more.

He ends up having to pay an extra six bucks at the ticket booth in short term parking because he and Brendon spend so long kissing in his car, but he doesn't even care. It's not like he doesn't have the cash.

There's traffic, but then, there's always traffic, and they're holding hands over the gearshift. Brendon looks exhausted, skin pale and stretched tight over his cheeks, but he also looks happy. He keeps turning to Shia and smiling at him, huge and bright, using all his teeth.

"You excited?" Shia asks, he's laughing a little bit. He can't stop smiling himself. He hasn't been able to stop for the past couple of days. He can't really explain it. 

"You could say that, man," Brendon says, leaning back in his seat. His free hand's settled on his stomach, fingers just brushing his waistband. Shia can't help noticing, even though he should be keeping his eyes on the road.

He makes a valiant effort, anyway.

By the time they reach his house, Shia's so hard in his pants he can barely see straight. Brendon gets out quickly - it's more like a hop, really, unlocking the backseat to grab his backpack. He's halfway to the front door before he notices Shia isn't following.

"Shai?"

Shia makes a strangled noise that he doesn't mean to, and then a laugh that he does. "I'm having what you'd call technical difficulties," he calls out, and it takes Brendon a second, but when he starts to laugh, it's a pretty gorgeous sight.

"You need me to come kiss it better?" he asks, taking a few steps closer and dropping his bag by the passenger's side. He looks like he's about to drop to his knees - he at least looks like he's thinking about dropping to his knees, and Shia closes his eyes, groaning. "Shia," he says, and it's not his normal voice, either, this is something loud and processed. Maybe this is what he'd sound like if he were a radio announcer; an offended radio announcer anyway. "In _public_? Your neighbors could see us." 

He's trying to sound scandalized. He's also failing pretty miserably. The giggles don't actually help matters, and neither does the hand he's magically seemed to snake down the front of Shia's pants.

"You're such a fucking _tease_ ," Shia groans out, and Brendon grins as he makes a fist around the length of Shia's dick.

"You're the one who wore sweatpants to the airport. That's just begging for a rub and tug, dude," Brendon responds, and then he actually does it, ducking his head down to mouth at Shia's dick through the cotton. Shia doesn't do anything as stupid as accidentally hitting the horn, but it's a pretty close thing.

When Brendon pulls away, he's still grinning.

;

Zac calls once. Brendon's hanging out with Pete and one of his band members or maybe one of his own band members and Pete; Shia can't remember. He's fiddling with his phone, trying to figure out if calling Brendon so soon after he's left is too fucking clingy or not.

After a second, he decides he doesn't care, but his phone rings before he can actually make the call. "Yeah?" he says instead of an actual greeting. If it's Brendon, this is going to be one of those moments they tell their grandkids about, Shia's pretty sure.

"Shia?" The someone on the other end of the line isn't Brendon, and it takes him a second to place the voice. Once he does, though, it makes him smile.

"Zef," he says, and he's honestly stoked. They haven't talked much in a while. "What's goin' on, man?" Zac's a shrugger, and Shia pictures him doing just that, lifting his shoulders once, twice, clearing his throat. "You back in town?"

"Yeah, dude," Zac says. "Just got in like, yesterday. It was intense." They talk for a while, and Shia settles down against the mattress, listening.

"I bet New Zealand was insane."

"It so was! It so was. I never wanted to leave," Shia laughs, and Zac says something else, about the promo he'd been there to do and how getting asked the same questions over and over gets old so incredibly quickly. "The worst is when they think they're fucking clever," Zac adds and Shia laughs again, because it's true.

"It sucks, man, but that's the game, you know? You know." Zac laughs too, and this is nice, catching up. Shia enjoys it. Zac's a good buddy.

Zac says, "So I was thinking - "

Just as Shia blurts, "I really want you to meet my boyfriend - "

;

It's awkward.

**Author's Note:**

> For Ceej. Betaed by Cris and Pants.


End file.
